


Innocence

by Cyane



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Animal Death, Emotional Manipulation, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Tony, Tony Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 17:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyane/pseuds/Cyane
Summary: When Tony Stark was ten, Howard handed him a pellet gun and pointed towards a crippled deer.





	Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> ** I know nothing about guns, I know practically nothing about gun laws in the setting or anything to that matter. Keep in mind this is _fiction_. **

Tony always liked the animals that would wander into the backyard. 

Especially during the spring, because that's when the groups of deer came through. Every day, small clusters of furry, snow-dotted beige deer would tiptoe through the snow, weaving through the gap in the fence and towards the ravine in the back.

He would watch them through the window with his mother.

Howard Stark had a strict 'no-pets' policy in the house. According to him, they were messy, loud, unnecessary, and sentimental horrors. Even at age nine, Tony knew that it would be a bad idea to get a dog, since he would only get attached. 

And things died.

Tony knew that things died. Aunt Peggy and Howard lost Steve Rogers in the war. Jarvis Edwin's children had all died in the last thirty years. Tony had seen spiders get squashed under books or feet, seen dead flies in the window panes. 

For the most part, Tony thought he knew what death was. 

But Tony knew a lot more about life than he knew about death. Life was when the daisies Maria planted bloomed in the late spring. Life was when herds of deer danced through the snow. Life was when children were born, life was when baby birds were born, life was when you planted something and waited.

Death was... not that.

Anthony Stark was not naive. He had been working since he had turned four. He had taken whatever punishments Howard doled out in stride. He learned to deal with things by shoving it all down and ignoring whatever came after.

On the morning after a late-May snowstorm, a shrill scream rang throughout the house. Tony jerked away from his book and ran downstairs to see what the matter was, but the only thing in the kitchen was Maria, who was covering her mouth with one hand and frantically calling for Howard.

Tony followed her gaze, out the window, in the backyard. 

There was a lump. 

"What is that?" Tony asked his mother. Maria shook her head, continuing to yell up to Howard. After a good three minutes, there was a slamming noise as Howard came up from his workshop.

"What the hell are you screaming about?!" 

Maria pointed to the window with a shaky finger and Howard walked forward to peer out. When he saw the brown lump, his expression steeled and he turned back to Maria.

"I'll take care of it. Go to your room."

She followed his orders without question. And they were, in fact, orders- not to be confused with gentle requests that spouses usually exchanged. Howard was a hard man, even harder to love. It wasn't love, it was fear.

"What is that, da... sir?"

Tony knew he was too old to call his father by any affectionate nickname. 

Howard turned back to his son and his face twisted up grotesquely into a smirk. "That, Anthony, is a deer. Must've gotten hurt going over the fence or something. Another animal probably got to it."

Tony's eyes widened and he swung back to look at the brown lump of beige fur. Now that Howard mentioned it, the snow surrounding the deer was a dark red.

"Dead?" He whispered.

"Well, I didn't say that, did I?" Howard snapped. "This will be a good lesson for you. Wait here."

Hesitantly Tony remained standing at the back door, looking at the deer. When Howard came back, he was holding the huge, shiny, sharp-looking pellet gun that he kept downstairs in his workshop. Tony wasn't allowed to touch it. 

"Follow me," Howard commanded, slipping into his boots and striding out the back door.

Tony glanced down at himself. He had just woken up, and he was just wearing flannel pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt. But he knew that if he went back upstairs to get shoes, Howard would only get upset so he followed his father out the back door, inhaling sharply when his bare feet met the snow.

"Is it dangerous?" He asked Howard quietly as they approached it. 

Howard scoffed. "Hardly. It's a runt. Tiny. Useless. I won't be surprised if it's not dead."

Tony kept quiet after that, cautiously following Howard around to get a good look at the animal. Even up close, it was beautiful. Little speckles of white fur mixed with snow on it's flank, and it's snout was long and elegant. 

When they reached the other side of the deer, Tony threw his hand up to cover his mouth and nose, fighting back the urge to vomit. Howard was watching him carefully, though, and Tony knew it would be a bad idea to show any signs that it was effecting him. 

The deer's front had been sliced open by some animal. Crudely. It's four legs had buckled underneath it, bent in multiple odd angles. Intestines and internal organs were spilling out, blood sluggishly dribbling from the animal, coating the pure white snow into a deep, sticky crimson.

 _"Oh,"_ Tony choked out, feeling his stomach constrict at the smell. 

He could barely feel the cold numbness coming from his bare feet. 

For a moment, Tony was sure that there was no possible way the deer could be alive. It's insides were falling out, there was _so much blood_ \- the bones... the... oh-

The deer gave a spasm and shrieked, eyes flying open and jerking uselessly. Tony flinched back at the movement, eliciting an irritated scoff from his father.

"Huh. Alive," Howard muttered.

"You- you're not going to kill it, are you?" Tony asked, jaw dropping in panicked confusion. The deer was jerking and moaning, eyes staring into Tony, as if begging him to stop the agonizing pain.

"What the fuck did you think the gun was for?" Howard snarled. 

"But... it's hurt!" Tony wailed. "Look at it, we have to help it!" 

"This _is_ going to help it. Puttin' it out of it's misery, boy. Stark men are made of iron. Make the tough call. No son of mine is going to cry over killing a deer."

Tony bit his lip, trying to keep the tears from falling out of his stinging eyes. Then he realized the implications of the statement. "Wait- you mean...?"

" _Yes_ , Anthony." Howard handed Tony the pellet gun. "You're going to do it."

Tony's arms couldn't hold the weight of the gun, physically and metaphorically, so Howard propped it up on the ground and aimed right between the deer's slumped head. 

"I can't," Tony gasped.

"You're _going to_ ," Howard growled.

They stood there for a few minutes, in complete silence, before Howard made a frustrated sound and backhanded Tony across the cheek. Tony fell onto his back in the snow, but hardly noticed the cold seeping into his clothing. 

Slowly, miserably, Tony crawled to his knees and came closer to the gun.

The crippled deer seemed to whine, looking directly at him. _You're going to shoot me?_ It seemed to ask. _Why would you shoot me? I come every year, through your backyard, and you love to look at me._

Tony heard Maria's voice ring through his head. _"Thou shalt not kill."_

"It has a family, out there, somewhere-" Tony started. Howard cut him off with a grunt. 

"Captain America wouldn't hesitate. If you were anything close to who he was, if you were anywhere near the kind of man he was, you wouldn't hesitate either," Howard interrupted, glaring down at his son.

Tony didn't respond to the insult, eyes not wavering from the deer's.

"If you don't fire in the next five seconds, Anthony." Howard didn't have to finish the threat. Tony knew the implications. If Howard didn't leave him out all night to die, he'd get starved, or beaten, or sent to Uncle Obi's. Tony wasn't sure which was worse. 

_You'll be putting it out of it's misery,_ Tony told himself. His hands were trembling wildly as he put them around the gun. 

Right as Tony's trembling fingers tightened around the trigger, the deer made another whimpering noise, which was cut short as the pellet shot into the animal's skull. As soon as it shot, Tony felt the tears fall.

Watching something die was different than coming across a dead worm or roadkill. 

Watching something die- watching the life seep from something's eyes- it was indescribable. 

Oh, and Tony watched. Every. Second. 

The way the deer vibrated for a second before going stiff. The way the warmth and color of the animal's fur seemed to go grey, and the entrails spilling out of the animal took on a bluish green color. The jaw of the snout went loose and the bloated tongue spilled out. The deer's eyes went glassy and cloudy, the head thrown back from the momentum of the shot.

The gaping, bleeding hole in the deer's forehead. Tony didn't want to look any deeper than that.

The only sound was the ringing in Tony's ears. 

"Hmph," Howard grunted, before snatching the gun and walking back towards the house. 

Like nothing had happened. Like Tony hadn't just shot a living creature directly through the skull, like-

\--Like death meant nothing.

In that moment, Tony realized the true implications of death. Death meant stillness. Death meant the life wasn't just gone, the life was _sucked dry_. Death was something that you couldn't undo. You couldn't come back from death. 

Tony Stark learned about death the hard way on his tenth birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> First draft had everything set in the Winter, then I found out that Tony was born in late May. So going by this, previous to this fic, there was an extremely late May snowstorm. Plot hole, I suppose.
> 
> This is a bit darker and more gruesome than usual, but I really was fond of the idea. Please leave feedback via kudos/comments!


End file.
